


Pity Her

by Chaos_Crazy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Like alot of sexy stuff, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Content, it's an explicit fic, you came here for porn don't lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Crazy/pseuds/Chaos_Crazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back on Beforus, a single shared night leaves Porrim thinking things she normally wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pity Her

 

Your name is PORRIM MARYAM. And after an eventful night with your rust-blooded friend, DAMARA, you have a difficult dilemma before you.

 

You’ve finished your morning ritual, put on your makeup and such, as well as a new and fresh dress. And Damara is still sound asleep, and completely naked.

 

She slowly rises, covering her front half with the blanket, and blinking around like she’s forgotten where she was. It takes her a moment to remember, to gather her bearings. But she seems to understand the circumstances well enough.

 

She says something, and after a few conversations with her, you can understand just a bit of her japanese. She shivers a bit, indicating she’s cold when you can’t understand what she says.

 

You forgot that, being undead, you don’t worry about the temperature. You pick up her shirt from the floor, and wrap it around her back half. She thanks you.

 

Normally, you’d have kicked her out by now but… something isn’t right this time. You pity her more than anyone else you’ve pitied before. This isn’t right at all. You should’ve helped her get dressed and then had her on her way but…. she seems cold. In a different way than just the room tempature.

 

You sit down behind her, wrapping your arms around her, might as well be concerned for her. “Something wrong?” You ask her gently.

 

“Just cold.” She explains. She yawns, rather loudly too. You tell her to wait a minute and go off to your bathroom, taking a brush and then going back to her, picking up the discarded hairsticks from last night. Might as well use any excuse possible really.

 

You start working on her hair, brushing it out so it isn’t so tangled and disheveled, and then tying it up with the hair sticks. Of course she stops you before hand, knowing her hair is going to get messed up again with her next action. You don’t notice her bulge at first.

 

Until of course you see it, and she leans back to murmur something to you. As if she’s asking consen--Okay you didn’t give consent yet but the hand on your thigh is welcome.

 

You whisper, “Go ahead.” and she pushes closer into you, letting her shirt fall off as she pushes you back down on the bed. She kisses along your neck, and her hands travel along the fabric of your dress. You feel another surge of pity with how she treats you. She wants to touch all over all at once, to make you feel loved on every inch of flesh, but she can’t. She wants to kiss every inch of you, she wants to fuck until you’re aching, but she can’t. And god damn does it make you pity her. 

 

She mewls to you, but you keep your composure, you want to make her work for it, so that you can truly pity her. She moves against you desperately, her Bulge rubs against your leg, and god she’s already heating up. It takes just a bit more willpower to hold back.

 

She’s pulling down your dress now, working it off quickly and desperately, and god you pity her enough to cry right now. But you won’t. With her hands all over you now, you’ll tell her about this later, much later; as in never.

 

Because you couldn’t tell  her.  Not the woman you established was just a sex partner, not the woman who you’ve made it clear you only want to sleep with. No, not  Damara.  Not with oh god what did she just do and why does it feel amazing?

 

You look down, trying to slow down your breathing, and quiet yourself, no need to wake the neighborhood. Oh, that was just your bulge finally getting out. She pulls off your panties in a swift motion and throws them to the side.

 

Her red tendril wraps around your own Jade colored one, as her nails start brushing along your full body tattoos you have. She murmurs something in Japanese, but you can’t quite understand.

 

Her mouth latches onto your neck.  Ironic,  you think.  Considering what I am. 

 

Her bulge gives a sudden writhe around yours and you make your first gasp of the morning. She seems to take note of it, her hands now actually working to make you gasp and moan rather than let out pleased humms. 

 

Her nails dig into your breasts as she kneads, hard and fast, almost as if she’s finally woken up. Her legs hurriedly wrap around yours, with her hips pressing down harder, trying to untangle your bulges and get hers into your nook.

 

Or so you thought, when she suddenly shifts and moves to all fours, wrangling the Jade appendage in her hand, you realize you’re about to get  much  more of a service that that.

 

She tries to hold you still, but your bulge isn’t having any of it. You’d say it was throwing a tantrum if you didn’t know that it doesn’t have feelings.

 

Eventually she gets lucky, and your bulge, having found a warm and wet hole to be in, gleefully sinks into her mouth.

 

This isn’t the first time she’s done this to you, but it’s always the exception rather than the rule. You take a moment to try and touch her, your hands running along her hair and back, and then down further to her breasts. She sucks hard, without warning and with a passion.

 

You gasp despite yourself, and her grip her tits just a bit harder. You’re careful to hold back; you know with your drinker strength you could easily tear her in half, but you don’t want to.

 

She violently shoves your bulge down her throat. She’s always very quick when she’s on top, which is why you prefer the position. Not to say that her wild and quick love-making isn’t  fucking divine , but you prefer things to last a while.

 

She sucks more on your bulge, solidly and ardently. Her head bobs swiftly, moving over your bulge in a way that leaves you moaning, and grabbing your own breasts. She swats your hands away and does it for herself.

 

You want to say you love this but that’s an understatement. You  fucking cherish  every time she wants to ravage you. Because  dear god is she amazing at it .

 

Even you, with all your experience both flushed and pitch, can’t ever seem to do this the way she does. Because she’s just so much like an  animal in the way she makes love.

 

You feel that familiar pressure at the base of your bulge, and you know for a fact that she’s going to make you cum right now, and then still insist you please her. And  damn it  you won’t say no.

 

You were right. As both her hands come down from your breasts your own immediately replace them, and she starts pumping her fingers in your nook, with the other hand jerking herself off.

 

You push the orgasm out, wanting it to just be over with so you can do the same to her. It comes out hard and fast, making you back and arch and a small scream cry out from your throat. You  writhe  from the delirious pleasure as she continues to suck you off and finger your nook, taking every drop of cum that can manage into her mouth.

 

By now, the floor is ruined, as well as the side of the bed and thankfully only  your  outfit.

 

She stands up, and the bulge that’s still writhing around her hand seems to writhe faster as she pushes you down again. Her thighs take their place at each flank of your head and she sets herself down.

 

Not as if you mind, but the audacity of it is a bit appalling. You lean up anyway, and eagerly take her nook into your mouth.

 

You lick, suck, and bite as much as your can, feeling her bulge writhe against your hair and slick it with precum.  That’s going to be hell to wash out you think.

 

You hum against her nook, each of your hands grabbing, though more of clawing, at her thighs. You shove your prehensile tongue as far in as it’ll go, and thank Damara for getting herself off enough to make this go faster.

 

That thankfulness is well placed, as it’s not long before she’s making the half-screams that tell you she’s trying to hold off her climax as long as possible.

 

You eat faster, with a renewed vigor as you try to push her over the edge. You’re so wrapped up in pleasuring her, you don’t really think to prepare for swallowing down the load she’s about to blow in your mouth.

 

You let out a muffled shriek as her head flies back and she cums hard. The genetic material pouring out of her nook goes straight down your throat and you’re not entirely sure you enjoy it or live in fear of it.

 

Her orgasm is quick, like her lovemaking, and you don’t suffocate luckily.

 

She stands up, quickly getting dressed while you stand up, and hack out a stream of cum that just didn’t go down right, and then sigh from the depressing thought of having to clean this all up.

 

Once she’s finished walks over to you. Says “Thank you. See you again.” then kisses you on the cheek and hurries out.

 

You fall back on your mattress, now would be a very good time to go to sleep and consider everything.

  
Because now you think for sure, as you stroke your own cheek, that you pity her.


End file.
